


The Goodbye Song

by mtn_dew_red



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz (Two River Cast) Actor RPF, Be More Chill - Ned Vizinni
Genre: Angst, Canon Era, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Other, Recreational Drug Use, Sad Ending, Seriously this is so sad, Squips (Be More Chill), Suicide, Suicide Notes, im v sorry, thanks george salazar, the goodbye song made me do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24186454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtn_dew_red/pseuds/mtn_dew_red
Summary: It's been weeks since Jeremy Heere has talked to him, let alone seen him, and Michael has had enough of pretending that he's alright.
Relationships: Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell
Comments: 11
Kudos: 35





	The Goodbye Song

Michael stares into the trash can, Pokemon cards and concert tickets set ablaze within and casting a crimson light on the stainless steel which reflects in his glasses and makes his chocolate eyes appear as if they’re glowing yellow. He flicks the lighter in his left hand, which was patterned with shapes of weed, holding the pale orange flame under a Yu-Gi-Oh card and watching the card stock catch light. He holds it between his fingers, watching the flame lap at the colorful graphic and curl the plastic covering. He taps off the ashes, holding it until the fire begins to hurt his fingertips and then drops it into the metal can. 

Doing this- burning these memories between him and Jeremy- wasn’t technically doing anything. It only left a bad taste in his mouth… but out of spite, burning these things was satisfying in a way. Watching the memories of their twelve years of friendship turn to grey ash in the fire he’d set in the bin was a form of self-therapy. He sighs inwardly, taking off his glasses and holding them between his fingers as he rubs his eyes with his other hand. He massages his temple, feeling the dull ache in his skull of an oncoming migraine. He tosses his lighter to the side, the plastic object landing on the carpet with a quiet thump. He holds his head in his hands, elbows propped on his knees.

Michael wants to cry, really, he does… but he can’t. He’s run out of tears. He watches the last of the Yu-Gi-Oh cards burn out, now staring at the ashes within the bin. That was almost everything he had left between him and Jeremy. He’d burned their grade school valentines cards already…

His eyes drift to the rainbow patch on his red hoodie, just below the turntable one on his left sleeve. He frowns, eyeing the corner which had begun to come unstuck. He had planned on ironing it back on… but Jeremy had given him this patch. He remembered it so vividly, too. It was just after he’d come out to the boy. Jeremy went out of his way to get him a rainbow pride patch to show his support. Michael had done the same for Jeremy when the boy came out as bi to him- he’d helped Jeremy iron it on his backpack. 

He picks at the corner of the patch, the adhesive back coming unstuck from the red cotton fabric and peeling off with some force. It left a dark rectangle in the fabric; the area around the patch had been sun-bleached over time from Michael wearing this garment so often. He holds the piece of thread work in his hand, staring it down as if it could spontaneously combust at any moment. He runs his thumb over it, feeling the dips in the patch as one color ends and another starts. He bites his lower lip, holding in tears as he leans over to pick his lighter up from the carpet. 

Everything must go. 

He flicks the metal wheel with his thumb, the familiar scrape-’shk’ like a mantra. A whisper for him to just go ahead and get it over with already. He holds the pale yellow flame under the patch, watching the threads snap and curl as the heat envelopes the colorful flag. It catches light fully, and Michael drops it into the trash can, watching it curl and contort until it's an unrecognizable and mangled mess. Gone. Everything was gone, now. Jeremy Heere was nothing but a memory to him, now. A reminder of why Michael should never trust anyone ever again. Maybe he was destined to be alone. To have no friends. To be the perpetual loser. 

Michael tries to remember when he last spoke to Jeremy. The days have all blurred together by now. It must’ve been at the Halloween party… before the fire. Michael remembers that night all too vividly. Their first real fight, Jeremy shoving Michael out of the way, crying in the bathtub, watching the fire pour from under the crack in the door like crimson water, jumping out of the bathroom window, rolling both of his ankles… he’d missed two weeks of school because of that. Not like anyone noticed- the only person who would have was pretending he didn’t exist. Even after he’d recovered, he just chose to stay home. Jeremy was the only reason he gave a shit about showing up for school in the first place. These past few weeks have been a big blur of sulking, half-assed video game playing, and getting stoned. A routine. 

He swallows, moistening his all-too-dry throat and staring at the carpet as he thinks. He rolls the sleeve of his hoodie up on his left arm, flipping it over and looking at the little pac-man tattooed into the skin there. He runs his fingers over the slightly blue and faded ink lines. Too bad he couldn’t burn that, too. He would if he could. He huffs out a sigh, rolling his sleeve back down and carding a hand through his hair. He was nothing without Jeremy. A half of a whole. Incomplete. Player one without a player two. 

He feels a tear slip down his cheek as he stands, going to his desk and plopping himself down in the chair. He pulls a piece of paper from the drawer, clicking his pen on the desk. Fuck it all. No one would even notice if he was gone. Jeremy certainly wouldn’t. No one gave a shit about him, anyways. He’d been out of school for nearly a month and a half now, and no one had even bothered to send him a text. Nothing was holding him back, now. Not with his only reason to not do it completely gone. He can feel tears well up in the corners of his eyes as he writes, his sinuses suddenly feeling very stuffy as he grows progressively more and more upset. The pen glides not-so gracefully over the paper. 

“The time has come for me to go.”

He writes. God, that was cliche. Fuck it. It’s not like he cared. 

“And, although I’ll be out of sight, dear… know I’ll be right here. Forever.”

Michael swallows thickly, sobbing a little to himself and sucking a shaky breath through his teeth. Dear. Jeremy never really had the chance to find out how Michael really felt about him… and now he never would. Not entirely. His lower lip trembles as tears begin to slip down his tan face and collect at his chin. 

“And when you look to the night skies, don’t think of goodbyes. Think of how I’m right here.”

He puts the pen down and grabs a tissue from the box at the corner of the desk, blowing his nose. Gross. So gross. He was disgusting. A waste of space. This is why Jeremy had left him. He didn’t deserve a friend like that. 

“Thank you for teaching me lessons. Thank you for listening to mine.”

He thinks back on the first time Jeremy had come over to Michael’s house. They were in kindergarten. He had taught Jeremy how to use a play station controller for the first time, because his parents were stuck in a legal battle for his custody and couldn’t afford a gaming console. Michael was happy to share his. He wipes away bitter tears and bites his tongue painfully. Get your shit together, Mell. 

“No, you can’t come with me. Stay- I wish I could. I know it’s hard. I know it hurts. I’d stay if I could, but the universe won’t let me. Be good. Don’t forget me.”

He stares down at the sheet of notebook paper one last time, tears streaming down his face and making some of his letters bleed into illegibility. He inhales shakily. 

“Goodbye.”

\--

The next day, at school, there is a folded up piece of paper that falls out of Jeremy Heere’s locker. He stares at it as it flutters to his feet before picking it up, crumpling it, and throwing it into a bin next to the Science room. Forgotten. Unread. He gives it no thought, immediately obeying his SQUIP’s command and disposing of it. 

Not everyone goes out with a bang- some go out with a whimper. 

A goodbye song.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry that I made this so sad- I was just in a mood and wanted to write something based on George Salazar and Joe Iconis' 'The Goodbye Song', so I did it. Hopefully you enjoyed and didn't cry /too/ much.


End file.
